Pokémon Fanfiction Ash Starter Beldum Novels & Stories

he asked sounding a tad weak. Ash hummed, "After my mo-the woman hired to play my mother was killed, I wished I could just erase my life, burn it down to nothing", he swallowed, "I didn't tell you the whole story, my grandfather killed or attempted to kill my grandmother when my father was my age, and it's apparently a family, initiation thing", he made a face as if he'd tasted something vile, swallowing he continued, "Obviously my grandmother survived probably using another decoy to protect herself, she, however, couldn't change the way her son ended up thinking, and apparently that man has wires in his brain screwed wrong", he said shaking his head. "If I can't erase who I am, or burn my p

CHAPTER 1 THIRD PERSON'S POV The wind howled through the trees like a grieving widow, low and sharp as it swept across the borderlands. Aria Ashborne stood on a jagged outcrop of stone, her cloak snapping around her ankles as she surveyed the distant shimmer of firelight in the valley below. Another rogue camp. Another reminder that the world she once knew had turned its back on her She hadn't been Alpha-blood in years-not since the day they dragged her father into the Council pit and branded him a traitor.

She needed money, and he needed a wife who would just show off and never give birth to his children. This contract was right for him. "Mister Asher, you don't need to worry about it." Bella took a deep breath, then lowered her eyes and replied. Asher then got up and went towards the bathroom without any care. After bathing, he changed his clothes and started leaving, then he remembered something and took out a tablet from a box, put it in the bathtub, and then filled the bathtub with hot water and came out. When Bella no longer heard the footsteps, she realized that he was gone.

The second Source stayed. It called itself nothing. Had no name. Had never needed one. Things that only hunger don’t require identity. Lena named it Ash. Because it was the color of ash now. Not dark grey anymore. Not silver yet. Something between. Like fire that had burned down but still held heat. Ash learned faster than anyone expected. But learning and changing weren’t the same thing. It understood creation intellectually. Could watch the silver garden grow and recognize beauty on an analytical level. Could describe joy without feeling it. Could explain love without experiencing it.

Calculating, not judging. “You shouldn’t be here alone.” He says. “I usually am.” I smile with no warmth behind it. “That’s not strength,” he replies. “That’s habit.” That lands closer to home than I’d like. A howl rolls through the forest—low, controlled, communicative. Ashton’s attention snaps toward it instantly, instinct wrapped in authority. Whatever he is to his people, it isn’t symbolic. “They’re calling you,” I say. “Yes.” “Are you going?” I say not looking at him.

Isabella As soon as we reach the forest, Asher disappears behind a tree. He returns in his wolf form and I get on. I feel sad that I can’t shift, but I feel exhilarated as Asher runs through the forest. I blink when my vision seems to change a little. I’m still trying to clear the strange blue vision when Asher suddenly stops and shakes me off his back.

"Why? Because she looks like an ugly duckling? Or because her parents own no hotel?” Truthfully, I always thought Suzella was prettier than I was. With her jet black hair always packed neatly in a bun, her height almost matching mine, and the cute dimple on one side her cheek whenever she smiled. She was far from ugly. And even if she was, so what? “Don't you dare talk back at me." Asher growled, still dragging me until we reached the empty field. “Give me your phone." He demanded. Very good. “I left it in the class."

Too peaceful. Zane placed a hand on the small of my back as we walked, and I shot him a look. He pretended to study the surroundings, the picture of a devoted, overinvolved father or maybe a bodyguard in disguise. When we reached the Apple Blossom classroom, a name far too sweet for a group of toddlers capable of toppling empires with markers and half-chewed gum, Ash was already introducing himself to his teacher, Miss Felicia, with his over confidence style. “I’m Ash. I’m three and a half. This is Papi. He’s handsome and can make Godzilla sounds. This is Mami. She’s a lawyer and she makes adults cry.”

But she wasn’t exactly sure how. It started small. Flickering lights when she was angry. A crack spidering across the kitchen window when her mom screamed at her for not moving on already. Then there was the dream. It felt real. Too real. She was standing in a forest of ash trees. Everything was grey; the sky, ground, even the wind. Then she looked down and saw something glow on her skin. A mark. Twisting vines circling her arm, pulsing like it had a heartbeat of its own.

Almost endless. The first Queen turns toward me. “This wasn’t born as a chain,” she says. The words appear inside me, quiet and certain. I look at the spiral vanishing beneath the bone dust. “It became one,” I whisper. Her face doesn’t change. “So did we.” A small cry cuts through the field. I turn. A pup stands between two ribs, tiny beneath the moon. His fur holds the light like frost. His eyes are wide and dark. Ashen. I know him without knowing how.